How to survive a heartbreak

No one wants to experience heartbreak, yet at some point, we all do. Heartbreak is a universal human experience— we experience it through loss, the end of a relationship, or the shattering of a dream. When it comes, it doesn’t tap gently on the door; it crashes through like a train, leaving devastation in its wake. It’s one of the most intense emotional and physical experiences we can have, and science backs this up.

The biology of a broken heart
Heartbreak doesn’t just mess with our minds—it courses through our entire nervous system. When we lose someone we love, our bodies react as if we’re under a real, physical threat. Our stress hormone, cortisol, floods our system, setting off a cascade of physiological responses—our fight-or-flight mode kicks in, an ancient survival mechanism designed to protect us from danger. But instead of running from a predator, we’re trapped in an invisible battle with our emotions. Our hearts race, our stomachs churn, and sleep becomes a distant dream. It’s why heartbreak can feel like a punch to the gut—because, in many ways, our bodies believe it is.

Neurologically, heartbreak mirrors physical pain. The same brain regions activated during physical injuries light up when we experience emotional rejection. It’s why we describe heartbreak as an ache, a stabbing pain, or a crushing weight in our chests. The brain struggles to differentiate between emotional and physical distress, making heartbreak one of the most consuming experiences a person can endure.

From an evolutionary perspective, heartbreak is a survival instinct. Our ancestors thrived in tight-knit groups, where connection meant safety and survival. The pain of separation wasn't just emotional—it was a biological alarm, pushing us to restore those bonds and avoid the dangers of isolation. The intense longing we feel after a breakup or loss isn’t mere sentimentality—our biology urges us to restore those connections. The ache in our chest, the pit in our stomach, and the sleepless nights are all part of a deeply ingrained system designed to push us back toward social bonds. It's as if our nervous system sounds the alarm, reminding us that isolation can be dangerous. This is why heartbreak can feel so raw and consuming—because, on a primal level, our brains are fighting to keep us from being alone.

But knowing this doesn’t make the experience any easier.

When heartbreak tore me apart
Even though I understood the science, my last heartbreak tore me apart. It felt like walking underwater—heavy, suffocating, inescapable. My physical pain was so intense that nothing had ever matched it. I felt like my body betrayed me; sleep became impossible, my appetite vanished, and my entire system was flooded with cortisol. My face was swollen from stress, my limbs felt weak, and my libido disappeared entirely. I felt like I lost my mojo. I no longer recognized the person staring back at me in the mirror. I was drifting, day and night.

I couldn’t escape it, no matter what I did. It felt like my very identity had been ripped apart, leaving me hollow. I questioned everything—my worth, my choices, my future. Nights were sleepless, and days felt like dragging myself through a thick fog. There were moments when I thought the pain would never end, that I would carry this wound forever. There were moments when I wanted to rush through the process, to heal overnight. But heartbreak doesn’t work that way.

I learned that no amount of understanding could shield me from the depth of human grief.

The social weight of heartbreak
Breakups carry an unspoken burden: the feeling of failure. In modern times, separation can feel like an admission that we made the wrong choice or weren’t "enough." But the truth is, sometimes things don’t work out, and that’s okay. Yet, the world rarely acknowledges the depth of this grief. Heartbreak exists in a strange, invisible space. There are no formal condolences, no bereavement leave, no collective acknowledgment of the weight it carries. Our society's expectation remains: show up, perform, deliver. The world does not pause for heartbreak. How do you process something so profound while being expected to function as if nothing has changed?

This is one of the greatest struggles of heartbreak: carrying something heavy in a world that refuses to recognize its weight. The expectations to be strong, to move on quickly, and to act as though nothing happened can make the grief feel even lonelier. However, healing does not happen on anyone’s timeline; healing occurs only on your own. It is okay not to be ok. It is ok to grieve, even when no one acknowledges your grief. And it is ok to take the time you need to rebuild despite the world’s demand to keep moving forward.

Facing the storm, not running from it
I heard about the Buffalo Theory from a grief therapist. She explained that when a storm approaches, most animals instinctively run away, trying to escape the inevitable. But buffaloes do something different: they turn toward the storm and charge through it. By doing so, they minimize their exposure and move through the pain more quickly. Heartbreak works the same way—avoiding it only prolongs the suffering. The only way out is through.

Here are my key takeaways:

• No denial: Acknowledge the pain instead of numbing it with distractions. Suppressing emotions doesn’t make them disappear; it buries them deep, where they fester. Facing your pain head-on is the first step toward true healing.
• Therapy, therapy, therapy: This is hard and painful. Talking to someone can feel like reopening a wound you desperately want to close, but it’s necessary. A therapist can help you untangle the emotions that feel impossible to navigate alone, giving you tools to process and move forward.
• Sitting in the emotions: Let yourself feel. Don’t rush to “fix” the pain—no quick solution exists. Cry. Journal. Scream into a pillow or the forest if you need to. Heartbreak demands to be felt before it can release its grip on you.
• Healing is wild: Some days, you’ll feel fine. On other days, getting out of bed will feel impossible. Allow yourself to rest. Your energy will return when you are ready.
• Boosting natural serotonin: Even when movement feels impossible, take a small step outside for fresh air, sit in the sun, or stretch your body. Your brain is wired to respond to these simple actions, helping to lift the fog of sadness, even if only slightly.
• The power of connection: We are not meant to go through heartbreak alone. Surrounding yourself with supportive friends, therapy groups, or grief circles can provide a safe space to express your pain. When we share our grief, we distribute its weight, making it more bearable.

The light beyond the pain
The beauty of heartbreak is that it carves out space for something new. The pain that feels unbearable today will, in time, become a distant ache, a lesson, and eventually, just a story from your past. Every heartbreak marks the end of a chapter but also the beginning of another.

Heartbreak teaches us that we are capable of immense love, and because of that, we are also capable of tremendous healing. It forces us to rebuild ourselves from the inside out, making us stronger, more self-aware, and more compassionate. As we heal, we realize that heartbreak does not define us—it refines us. It shapes our resilience, deepens our capacity for empathy, and teaches us the value of connection.

You’ll wake up one day and realize you’ve made it through. You’ll feel lighter. The world's colors will look a little brighter, laughter will become more straightforward, and love, whether in a new person, in yourself, or in life itself, will find its way back to you. And when it does, you’ll know that every tear, every sleepless night, and every ounce of pain led you to something greater.